The High
by impavid fool
Summary: All Piper sees is the damage she caused, the shattered pieces she tore; all she sees is what she left behind. [Alex/Piper]


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When she realises she shouldn't have come back, it's too late. Piper is scared. Terrified, and when she tries to grasp her hand, Alex's hand, she pulls away, avoids her gaze. Neither say a word. It's dark. Miserable. Piper pretends to ignore the remains of heroin scattered across Alex's table. A glass of water stands alone, several inches away from her former lover. Piper feels a ball form in her throat, and she stands to her feet, leans across the table.

Pale. Far too pale.

Eyes blank, lifeless, and Piper swallows. The drugs haven't kicked in yet. Or, their effects are beginning to fade. She reaches over, her fingertips grazing over Alex's cheek. Instantly Alex flinches; she flinches so violently Piper nearly falls back. Heart pounding against her ribcage, Piper is frozen, stares at her, and she doesn't hide the fear in her eyes. Doesn't hide how horrified she is at witnessing Alex like this; it doesn't suit her, it's **not** her. Whoever this person is, she isn't Alex.

Suddenly Alex is on her feet, too. They watch each other, and Piper is highly disturbed at the lack of expression, the lack of words, lack of everything which makes Alex real. Piper is still when Alex moves, turns and approaches a bottle of alcohol –– one of many bottles lined up on the shelf –– and takes a swig, then another. Ignores her. It's as if she's forgotten Piper is in the room, and Piper winces. The drugs are setting in, and she should leave. She should allow Alex to enjoy the pleasure heroin gives her, but she stays. This time, she doesn't walk away.

It's a split second. Sharp. Instant. Their eyes meet.

Piper stiffens. Suddenly Alex's eyes are filled with life, an illusion of happiness and freedom. Suddenly Alex is okay, content; she's high. Piper chews on her lower lip. Her heart jolts when Alex says something, mumbles several words, then she smiles, laughing at her. Alex is making fun of her. A horrid warmth creeps over Piper's body and she shivers.

'Why are you doing this to yourself?'

'What? What am I doing?' That smile is a nightmare.

'**K****illing** yourself.' Piper's voice catches.

'Oh.' Alex lifts the bottle to her lips. 'Mm.' Drinks far too much. 'God, there's so many of you.'

'Damn it, Alex: you're high. You need to stop drinking and––'

Alex's brows raise, she inhales and sits on the edge of her bed slowly. The wall is blank, and she stares at it blankly. The bottle of alcohol slips from her grip. Piper watches, tears sting her eyes, and she can't believe what's happening.

'What are you doing?' She whispers, so scared, so fucking scared.

A whine. 'Get the hell out.'

'No. I can't.'

'Oh?' Alex laughs, 'But the door is right there.'

Piper comes closer, grasps her hand. She's cold. Ever so cold. 'Look at me.' She doesn't. She's more interested in the floor, and she watches it in awe, watches the little patterns and colours swirling before her, and she smiles. It amuses her. It's funny. 'Look at me, baby.'

Later, Piper will punish herself for letting her tongue slip. Right now, Piper doesn't care what she says, what she reveals. She just wants Alex to look at her. There's a moment when Alex sobers, blinks, looks up from the floor, and turns to her. There's a moment when Piper sees the woman she once knew, and she nearly bursts into tears when Alex is lost again. She sniggers, pulls her hand out of Piper's grip, 'I'm not your baby. Nope! You didn't wanna be anymore,' a smile. Piper doesn't understand how any of this is so hilarious.

Four missed calls.  
Every night.  
A name illuminating on the screen of her phone: **Alex**.

For weeks, she had ignored them. Tried to move on. Tried to forget. But the calls kept coming, one after the next, and, then, eventually, Piper made the mistake of answering. She should never have answered, should never have listened to Alex's slurs of apologies and cruel remarks, and she should never have gone to see her, to make sure she is okay.

'Stop this.'

Alex shakes her head, squints. Groans.

'You're not going about this the right way.' Piper is useless, useless with her words. She starts to search for the drugs, and Alex doesn't realise what she's doing until Piper looks in her chest of drawers. Piper yells in surprise when Alex grabs her wrist, yanks her away so forcefully she causes pain. Angry, the blonde pulls away, stares at her, distraught, upset. Why did she come back? 'What the fuck are you doing, Alex? Those drugs will kill you!'

'So?'

'So?!' Piper glares. 'What do you mean "so"?'

Alex shrugs. Uncaring. 'Why do you **care**?'

Why does Piper care? Why does she care? Why? What is the point? 'Because I can't fucking sleep at night knowing you're doing this to yourself.'

'So?'

'So...' Piper shrugs too. '...Is that it? You just going to give up like that?'

Sighs. Alex has lost interest. Stumbles past.

'Why do you keep calling me?' Piper demands, following after her. 'What do you want?'

If Alex shrugs one more time, Piper will smack her. 'Nothing.'

'Alex.' Piper steps closer, 'Alex.' Her name is tender, soft, **loving** as it passes her lips. 'Alex, you must stop. I can't handle this.' Fragility. She's admitting she's weak and fragile and can't handle this; it's too much. It's too much, and she desperate for Alex to stop. So desperate. Carefully, Piper places her hand to Alex's cheek, but the older woman steps back. Focusses on the window. 'Let me help you––'

Quickly, Alex looks at her, frowns for a second, then turns to the window again.

'Alex? Let me help.'

'It's too blue outside.'

Green.

Alex's eyes are green, and Piper has missed them dearly.

Maybe it's the drugs. Maybe it's the light. But Alex's eyes are so deep, dark, gorgeous. Surprisingly focussed, and very alive. She doesn't register what Piper is saying. Sighs, content, and walks past. Piper is boring. Just unnecessary. Of little interest. Piper slumps her shoulders, softens her expression, and waits. She turns to the window, and has to admit, it is very blue outside. She waits, and she'll wait for the whole day if she has to; she doesn't have the will to walk away.

The blue darkens. Night.

Finally, she hears Alex enter the room, stop. Piper looks at her.

Exhaustion. Regret. Self-loathing.  
Her eyes have lost their life again.  
She's sober.

'Get the fuck out,' Alex whispers, running her hands down her face.

Piper glances at the door. Then back at her. 'I want to talk.'

'No. I don't want to talk.'

'Tough.' Piper approaches her, and Alex moves away.

'If you don't go, I will.'

'Look at you.'

No response.

'Look at you, Alex. You're a mess.'

She is a mess. An unrecognisable state. A ghost. Dying.

Broken.

Tortured.

'You keep calling me.'

Alex cocks her chin back, twitches a crooked smile. 'You can block my number.'

'Yeah, I can.' Piper's jaw clenches.

'Please leave. I don't want you here. I don't want you anywhere near me. Just go away.'

'How was the funeral?'

Sharply, Alex looks at her. Glares. There's hatred in her eyes. 'None of your business.'

'Alex...'

'Fuck.' She sighs. 'I feel fucking awful.'

'That's what happens when you take drugs. Thought you'd know by now considering you sell them.'

'Urgh,' Alex groans, 'I have a fucking headache already. You're making it worse.'

'How could you start taking drugs? Why––?'

'God, you're stupid.'

'**I****'****m** stupid? I'm not the one snorting heroin.'

Alex laughs.

'It's not fucking funny!'

'You left me.'

'...'

'I had nothing else. Just the drugs. It's a great rebound, to be honest.'

'Fuck...'

'I want you to leave me alone. Just–– Please, get out.' She's begging. It's too painful to see Piper, too painful to let Piper see her this way. Alex feels humiliated. Wronged.

And she still loves her.

Even after a month, Piper still loves her.

So fucking much.

It breaks her heart.

'... don't go where I can't follow.'

Alex sits on the bed, stares at the wall. Numb.

'Please.' Piper quietly comes forwards, then kneels before her, takes her hand. Lifeless. Alex's eyes are lifeless. 'You are killing me by doing this. I can't–– Alex, look at me.'

'No.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Oh God...'

'I am sorry. But I had no choice. I––'

'My mum died. And you left me.' Alex makes the mistake of looking at her, and quickly flicks her gaze away. 'You had a choice. You always had a choice. You chose to abandon me.'

Abandon.

**You ****chose ****to ****abandon ****me**.

'I wasn't safe.'

Alex shakes her head, refusing to understand.

'I was your **pet**, Alex. You used me.'

'Used you? I didn't **use** you.' Alex manages to meet her gaze, and she's distraught. 'You agreed. You wanted this. You loved it.'

'No. No, I didn't.' Piper is breathless, shocked.

'Fuck you.'

'Alex––'

'Get out.'

'Alex, stop––'

'Get **out**. Leave me alone.' Alex is on her feet. Piper follows. 'Leave me **alone**.'

Desperate, Piper grabs her hands, squeezes. Alex pulls away. Piper clings, squeezes so tight she's hurting her, and Alex struggles, fights, but she's weak, tired; she's ruined. All because of Piper. All Piper sees is the damage she caused, the shattered pieces she tore; all she sees is what she left behind.

And she took everything else –– all the goods bits –– with her.

They watch each other.

Piper can feel her own heartbeat in her ears.

Alex is so pale.  
Sick.  
Dead.

Where is she? Where is Alex? Piper can't find her. She's gone. She's disappeared.

The drugs have taken her away.

Tears form in Piper's eyes, and she doesn't hold them back. She lets them fall, and she's ashamed and humiliated and embarrassed. She falls apart before the woman she hurt, gasps in agony, struggles to breathe, and her hand grabs a fistful of Alex's shirt. They kiss. She moans lightly. Pulls away. Her head is dizzy, she's stopped breathing altogether. Alex tastes of poison, and alcohol. Awful. Piper kisses her again. Long, reluctant, needy. She's already trembling.

**Stop**.

Alex resists suddenly.

**Stop**.

Piper hardens her grip. Pushes her body against hers.

**Stop**.

She's so skinny.

Close to death.

**Stop****... ****stop****... ****oh ****gods****, ****oh ****gods****... ****make ****me ****stop**.

Alex gives up. Piper moans again when she feels Alex's hands on her body, pull up her shirt, presses her palms against her warm flesh. Restless, panicking, Piper wraps her arms around the back of Alex's neck. Kisses her with more force, her tongue aggressive, pushing hers back. Piper runs her hands through Alex's hair, pulls a little, exhales into her mouth when Alex touches her breasts, unclips her bra, flings it aside, and they fall apart effortlessly. So effortlessly.

Shame and remorse attacks Piper's mind when her back hits the mattress. She smells nicotine. Drugs. **Death**. And she holds onto Alex, constantly, never letting go. She doesn't know what else to do. She can't run away. Right now, she doesn't have the strength to run away. She lets Alex's hands mark her body, burn her, and she lets Alex's fingers take her, she lets Alex bite her flesh, kiss her neck, make her moan, gasp, scream in pleasure.

In the darkness, Piper whispers her name, again and again, and confesses –– **I ****love ****you**.

**I****'****m ****sorry****.**

**I ****love ****you****.**

**And ****I****'****m ****so ****sorry****.**

They kiss. And Alex is silent, quiet when Piper lips are on her body. Piper feels scars, tastes blood, and she makes love to her softly, tenderly, gently, slowly –– and says again and again, **I ****love ****you****. ****I ****love ****you**. It's a curse. Three words which make Alex's sore ears bleed. She wishes Piper will stop, stop, stop, **lie**. But Piper is genuine, true, and terribly, awfully honest. They don't lie. They speak what's on their mind, whisper their hate, their regret, their wishes and hopes.

They wish what they want. Silently.

Wish for another life. A better life.

A life where they can be.

Stupid.

Weak.

Pathetic.

Piper is petrified.

Afterwards, warm, the room stuffy, breathless, they hold each other. Piper touches her arm, her neck, her cheek, kisses her once more. A faint kiss. Light. Their lips barely touch.

She realises there's nothing she can do.

She can stay.

But, really, nothing has changed.

The drugs come first. The drugs always come first.

Alex is watching her. Piper can't see her in the darkness. But she's watching her. Waiting.

Waiting for the inevitable.

For another hour, Piper lies beside her, and, for the first time in so long, smiles. It's a sad smile. A terrible smile, shadowed with guilt, regret and so much love. Her finger trails down Alex's cheek, and she holds back a cry. Holds back so many things, so many words, so many kisses. So many promises.

Soon, Alex's breathing slows, and Piper knows she's fallen asleep.

Finally.

Finally, she rests.

The cold nips at Piper's naked body as she slips out of bed. Pulls on her clothes. Approaches the door, looks back at the damage, at the wounds.

Everything is distant, dark, miserable.

And yet, right now, Piper has never felt so mesmerised, so alive. For a moment, she's happy. She looks at Alex and she's happy. She looks at Alex, and she's complete. Whole again.

But it doesn't last forever.

'Good bye.'

No one hears her. Piper opens the door, and leaves into the early morning.

This time, she doesn't come back.

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**author's note**: Not feeling in a good place right now, and this happened. Takes place after Piper leaves Alex in Paris, and Alex resorts to drugs. Obviously this never happened, but it's a "what-if". You can like it or hate it, I don't mind. Thanks for reading if you did.


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